Day in the life
by CMDRilias
Summary: The Story of an unremarkable pilot that got lucky by an accounting error.
1. Chapter 1

I love the word of Elite: Dangerous. I love the lived in feel the galaxy has. I love the fact that actual history is happening there, be it player or developer driven. I also love all the story's that come out of the game; by video, forum post or by a fellow commander who just wants to tell someone. But these stories have a very common theme: I did that great thing with my ship, we found such and such a planet in our ships, we fought that wing and it was awesome. Don't get me wrong, I very much enjoy these stories. But, I don't think that this would be the kind of narrative you would get by actually living in the World of elite dangerous. Maybe because I studied sociology or maybe because I was missing this piece of told story, I wondered: What would life look like for the more or less average johns out there. Story's don't have to revolve around the absolute super hero, or most badass character to be a good and interesting story. So this is what you can expect from this story. No saving the galaxy, no winning wars single handed, just a guy that by misinterpreted paperwork gets the chance to see some of the galaxy.

I hope you like it.

* * *

The meddlesome orange light would not be ignored. It would keep lighting up every three seconds until Harro would give it the appropriate amount of attention. He kept pushing his glass from one palm into the other, creating a shuffling sound through friction with the counter. The light was not impressed. It kept demanding attention. Gloomily Harro pushed the glass against his communicator. Aside from no longer scratching the counter the situation did not change.

"You can't stare it into submission you know."

Harro looked up.

"Shouldn't you be teaching someone how to plot a course or something?"

Mathilda smiled and took the stool next to Harro.

"What, so there can be more half-witted hull rats like yours, certified to fly?"

"Oh Lord, what did they do?"

"Ah nothing out of the ordinary. Managed to jam a crane hook. Thought it would be clever not to tell anybody so they would not get into trouble. Of course the next crew that tried to unload with the crane unintentionally send a lot of agricultural supplies flying through the Dock. Gin"

The counter responded by flashing green, as to confirm Mathilda's order.

"Well you have to be thankful that is was only machinery. Grain might have caused a lot of micro debris and that takes ages to get out of a low g environment."

The Gin arrived via Mike, the barkeeper, while Harro dug his face into his palms.

"Have you told Gonzales already?" he asked through his hands.

"Yeah. He is talking it up with Montgomery right now. He told me he is insured."

"Yeah, my ass. He is lucky that the insurance for the type 7 is from the pilots'-federation. Your bosses are probably the only ones that insure his type of sorry business man."

"My bosses, I wish. You know exactly that Montgomery pays me. Stop teasing me with that. Now open your mail. You can't get around it anyway."

"Fine."

Harro opened his communicator and tapped the irritating orange button.

"Speaking about you bosses, it's them."

"What Montgomery? What does she want from you?"

"No, the Pilots-Federation."

"Would you please stop it."

Harro forced himself to open the mail. News from the Pilots-Federation usually was a fine or a notification to renew some licence. Bad news or chores… but not this time. Harro suddenly bolted upright and caused Mathilda to startle and choke on her gin.

"What's the news?" She asked after Harro had taped her on the back and she caught her breath.

"Apparently your bosses have promoted me to the rank of Entrepreneur."

Harrow frowned.

"This is probably not correct."

Mathilda whipped her mouth with the back of her hand and looked puzzled at Harro.

"They usually don't make mistakes. Don't they pride themselves with Galnet and their all-encompassing Information? Hey don't look so gloomy, congratulations are in order."

She started to grin like an idiot.

"You can start by buying me a drink and inviting your crew in here. Come on when was the last time we got drunk."

Harro shook his head.

"No there has to be something wrong. I don't own the Marduk. And the trade I run is payed with the money of the company. Don't you have to have a turnover of a 100million credits to be promoted to Entrepreneur?"

"130million or something. Don't quote me on that. Now where is my drink?"

Mathilda was still grinning like an idiot.

"You're impossible."

Harro grabbed his communicator and got up.

"Go clean up agricultural machinery or something."

He turned around and walked towards the exit of the Pilots-Federation Lounge.

"Oh I have a long memory, you owe me a drink Mister Harro Denson… Hey, wait did you pay for yours, _wait I'm_ NOT GONNA…"

As soon as Harro stepped out of the Lounge he regretted it. AKIYMATA MARKET was Brani 6's main Station. A Planet inhabited by around 4billion people in the Brani system on the edge of Hudson Space. It was a system like many others that contained an earth-like world like Brani 6. Politically more or less stable, economically sound and giving the neighbouring systems something to produce and export to Brani. Hence AKIYMATA MARKET was heavily crowded, loud and somewhat smelly. Except, of course, the Pilots-Federation Lounge. Only certified pilots were allowed in. Even Mike the bartender was a retired pilot. Harro put his hands in the pockets of his jacket that he wore over his flight suit and started to walk towards Universal Cartographics. It was one of the places where you could find an actual employee of the Pilots Federation, not like Mathilda, who was just a certified flight instructor licenced by the Pilots Federation, on payroll by the local government to train pilots and manage the traffic controllers of AKIYMATA MARKET. Harro could have just as well used his communicator to contact some legal entity of the Pilots Federation but he wanted to get away from Mathilda. He had known her for too long and her, finding happiness apparently only on the bottom of a glass, made him sad. Harro shoved through the crowed. It wasn't easy since he was around fifteen centimetres shorter than the average person that lived here. He was born on Cupis 7 in the Cupis system, 9 Lightyears from Brani. Cupis 7 was significantly bigger then Brani 6 and while on Cupis 7 you would experience 1.65g Barni 6's gravity was only 0.74g. This led to a noticeable difference in physique with people originating from Cupis being short and brought and Braniens being long and thin. Cupiens were sought after guest workers in labour intensive professions because they were known to be sturdy and enduring. These were of course generalisations. On AKIYMATA MARKET you could find all kinds of people, Spacers, born and brought up in Stations and Ships, Reptiles, born and brought up in conditions that required some kind of protective suit or Drifters, that came from god knows were. But the majority of people on AKIYMATA MARKET were born somewhere in local stellar neighbourhood. Even with the technology to travel dozens of lightyears in mere hours humans liked to stick with what they were familiar with. And, as Harro entered the Universal Cartographics, he wasn't really an exception. Universal Cartographics was usually fairly empty and if you encounter other people here, they were either high profile prospectors or some of the most curious bunch in the galaxy, explorers. Silent, aloof and with a stare that testified of thousands of suns that nobody had ever seen before, explorers were a select group of pilots. Full of stories they did not like to tell and usually more than a few quirks in their personality they kept the company of their crew or other explorers. Well at least they could rely on their crew not to trash a cargo crane…

"Can I help you Commander Denson?"

A young female employee, that was about twenty centimetres taller than him, was standing next to Harro.

"Ehh yes. I got a promotion from the Pilots Federation that must be a mistake."

"Congratulations on your Promotion Commander Denson."

Said the employee mechanically and extended her hand towards Harro.

"Yes, thank you."

Said Harro, shaking her hand briefly.

"Now, the promotion must be a mistake. I don't own the…"

"No there can be no mistake with a promotion… Well it is possible that there was a software error and the promotion was send to the wrong commander. May I have your licence please?"

"Yeah, sure."

He extracted his licence chip from the front pocket of his flight suit, were he stored all the other electronic paperwork, and forwarded into the hand of the young woman.

"Your name is Commander Harro Matheo Denson?"

"Yes."

"Then there is nothing wrong with your promotion."

"No, look. I don't own the ship I fly. And the trading profit isn't mine either. I am an employee of the Brani Federal Holdings."

"Well it says here that you, Commander Denson, are the Pilot and Commander of the Type-7 Transporter Marduk, leased form Brani Federal Holdings and insured through the Pilots Federation on your name. You, over the course of the past 6 years, have gained sufficient profits through trade that makes you eligible for the promotion to the rank of Entrepreneur. I can only repeat myself. Congratulations Commander."

She smiled again and handed Harro is licence chip back.

"Ehh, yes but, the ship… wait you said I am leasing the Marduk from Brani Federal Holdings?"

"Yes of course. Otherwise the Pilots Federation would not grant the insurance in your name."

Gonzales had a lot of explaining to do.

* * *

"Well, it's all here in your contract. And as you can see there is your signature underneath."

"I know. But the fact is, I was never made aware of this. And you let me believe that Brani Federal Holdings was still the holder of the Marduk, not just the owner."

"The company is the holder of…"

"No, I am. Read your own damn contract. You leased the Marduk to me in exchange for use of my pilot's license to buy insurance."

Harro was no lawyer but he wasn't stupid either. He had read every legal document he ever signed with Brani Federal Holdings, while he waited in front of the local police office to process his deckhands. Brani Federal Holdings employed him now for eight years as the commander for one of their five T-7s. Six years past they changed his contract. He thought he was just singing his actual contract after his two years trial period but instead got into this leasing bullshit. The problem was that, if something had happened to the Marduk during those six years, Harro would have been directly responsible for any loss of cargo, damages to the ship or, even worse, loss of crew. In hindsight it was a wonder that nothing happened to the crew, not because he was a reckless commander, but because Brani Federal Holdings usually employed the cheapest souls with a licence they could find. His deckhands usually were unskilled, unmotivated and sometimes even a liability. Now to be fair, all of this was technically legeal. Harro leased the ship and Brani Federal Holdings supplied the crew and gave him trading missions to fulfil. But they also acted like the holder of the Marduk, telling Harro were to be and at what time. As the holder of the ship this should have been Harro's decision, since he was the one taking the risk. Save to say this was borderline criminal. And Edwardo Gonzales, manager of the Brani Federal Holdings on AKIYMATA MARKET, knew it. Harro could see it clear as day as Gonzales made a show of reading his contract again.

"Yes, you are correct of course."

Gonzales said slowly as if he was thinking about what to say next.

"Well, I think we should get this fixed. I'll get some new contract drafted. As you can imagine this will take some time. In the meantime, there are units to be transported and…"

"You are just going to brush me off like this?"

"I can't do much about this right now. I will have to contact the legal department. What I need you to do is deliver 200 tons of supplies to BEAR CITY. Standard rate. Here are the details."

Harro supressed his anger the urge to crush Gonzales' face, took out his communicator and accepted the mission details.

"I am missing two deckhands."

He said and started look trough the cargo he was about to take on.

"What about Liu and… ah… Hel… Hei…?"

"Hendrickson. Both lost their licence and are denied to leave the station till the case with the cargo crane is resolved."

"Well, you and Cantu know how to load the ship just as well. Just go ahead and…"

Harro put away is communicator and looked straight at Gonzales.

"We are not going to. That is not part of our contract."

Gonzales retuned the look, but he knew he was treading on very thin legal ice at the moment.

"You are right, yes that is not why I employ you two. How about this. I will organize the loading here and forward you 5k to your business account to organize the unloading in BEAR CITY and hire two new deckhands there. Acceptable?"

"Fine."

"Good, very good. Now would you please excuse me?"

* * *

Harro made his way back where he left Mathilda a few hours ago. She probably would still be there, dead drunk and needing some motivation to go home. The Marduk was loaded up with all kinds of foodstuffs. BEAR CITY had no way of growing food so it needed to import from neighbouring systems. Cantu, his navigator, was bringing the Marduk online at the moment. They planned to leave in two hours and catch some sleep during the hyperspace jump. Harro liked AKIYMATA MARKET best in the evening. Of course in space there was no such thing as an evening, AKIYMATA MARKET just used standard galactic time. A lot of stations used some time zone of the planet they orbited, but Brani 6 was tidally locked to its parent sun Brani, so a day was the same length as a year – 18 standart days. The agricultural products that came through AKIYMATA MARKET all day left an earthy smell and now, that only a few people were walking the brought corridors of the Station, there was something comforting about it. As if you were on a large farm that backed in the sun all day and was now radiating all the build-up heat back into the atmosphere. Mathilda sure was in a sorry state.

"…and then he told me, no, no listen! He told me I should just calculate puhhahaha. Just calculate hahahahaha. There was nothing to calcu… hey, hey where are you going…"

By the look on Mikes face he didn't enjoy her story half as much as Mathilda. He probably had to listen to it a few times a week.

"Oh good, Harro. I would bring her home but I have to keep the lounge open for at least another two hours, can you…"

"That's what I am here for. Does she owe you anything? Yeah dumb question."

Harro added quickly as he saw Mikes face and gave him his credit chip.

"HA, so he isss buying me a drink after all."

"Seems like it. Come on, get up girl."

He said as he put one hand around Mathilda's waist and accepted his credit chip back with the other.

"Ohh, I always forget how sssmall you are."

"And you are getting heavier by the day. Move your feet now, I am not caring you."

"Sooo and what will you do if I just sit down here?"

Slurred Mathilda and let herself fall against the façade of the Pilots Federation Lounge.

"I'll probably drag you. Now get up, I have places to be."

"Oh don't be like that. Just, just let me sssit here. I don't want to go home."

Harro looked down on his old friend sitting drunk in the dust. He knew her for too long not to notice that she was terribly unhappy. It was the same unhappiness he had felt for at least the last five years. But he knew how to cheer her up.

"Come on we are going to the Dock. Get up."

He pulled Mathilda to her feet.

"Let's go. Yeah just don't stop walking. Let's get some water and take the Lift upwards."

* * *

AKIYMATA MARKET was an Orbis class Station with one large ring that was connected by two massive beams to the Dock. Since every square centimetre was valuable living space there were many living-quarters and a lot commercial space located in the beams (aptly named 'the beams') including the Pilots Federation Lounge. It's location in the middle of Beam one was easy to reach from the dock and provided enough g that dinks wouldn't spill as easily. In the Dock itself however you experienced barely 0.1 g and more than enough young pilots had gone for a drink after their first real flight, then came back to the dock just to empty their stomach of all that expensive liquor in an impressive case of explosive youthfulness. Mathilda however didn't even feel queasy as she was lying on top of landing pat 02's administrative building. Harrow jumped up the three story building with ease and landed light like a feather next to her. He had lived in so many different g-environments that it had become second nature to him. He didn't even have to think about how much force he needed to do something in any kind of g, just like seaman didn't notice their ship rock back and forth after enough time one sea.

"Here, drink that."

Mathilda open her eyes and sat up, letting her legs hang of the roof.

"Thank you."

She said, and took the water bottle from Harro, while he sat next to her. They both lingered there in silence, watching the traffic around the dock and listening to the swelling hum of the Marduk's starting fusion-reactor behind them. An orca was coming through the slot, filling the dock with a faint engine noise, as she slowly made for a landing pat to the aft of the station. They could see little figures gliding out of theirs seats and immediately stating to lose control over their body momentum. Harro had to laugh.

"I fucking hate this place."

He said watching a cobra undock. Mathilda nodded in approval and sucked some water out of the bottle.

"I hate this culture of cutthroat competition, I hate the people that only try to screw you over, I hate not being able to decide for myself were to fly. I just hate all this so much."

He said, making a swooping notion with his arms.

"You at least get to fly. I don't know any more how many times I asked Montgomery to give me a job where I could fly. But she keeps me here, training some Idiots who can barely find the throttle to manage traffic around the orbit."

"I thought it would be different after leaving the navy. Back then you could at least count on your comrades, you knew they had your back no matter what. Here, I find it difficult to trust anyone."

"Do you ever think about going back?"

"To the navy? Are you crazy? Have you forgotten why almost none of our crew renewed their contract? That eight month smuggling crackdown in Delaine space with that gorilla R. Admiral Sawyer and the forty-first flotilla?"

A smile creeped over Mathilda's face.

"Yeah that was bad."

They fell silent again, watching the evening activity's around the dock. The Marduk's power plant was now running smoothly and the heat from the radiators noticeably swept over them.

"Hey, how did your promotion turn out?"

"My, promo… oh right."

Harro had almost forgot. The troubles with Gonzales had occupied his mind most of the day.

"Well, I guess am an Entrepreneur now."

"Seriously, nobody tries to put in some legal action?"

"I don't think so. The Pilots Federation is definitely not taking it back. As for Gonzales, I guess I forgot to tell him."

"Maybe you should have. And demanded a better wage. You are an Entrepreneur after all. That's the equivalent of Dangerous for traders."

Harro nodded silently. He looked at his communicator for the time.

"Mathilda, I have to go. Will you please go home and not to another bar?"

"Yeah sure. I'm not in the mood anymore. I'll probably just get some ice-cream."

"Maybe just go to bed and go for a run tomorrow?"

Mathilda jerked upright, pushed herself of the ledge and floated towards the floor while giving Harro a salute.

"Yes, Sir, Lieutenant Commander, Sir!"

Harro grinned and waved at her. She is right. Slowly his grin melted from his face. He was an Entrepreneur now. And he technically was the holder of a perfectly functioning T-7. He got up and looked at the Engines of the Marduk. No… his Marduk.


	2. Chapter 2

Hello again

First of all: Thank you Terminal343 for the review, glad you like my story. To your criticism: I am not a native English speaker. I know that does not excuse mistakes and I really want to improve, so if anyone finds any errors please let me know. I don't plan to add visual descriptors for my main characters, as most of them will be pilots. For the longest time pilots were just bodies in flight suits with a black helmet. As of patch 2.3 you can change the appearance of your character on a whim. I want the reader to draw their own picture of the Characters. Most of the other characters are in the game (Edwardo Gonzales in the Brani system on AKIYMATA MARKET for example) and if you want, you can have a look at them.

Second: Hyperspace jumps in the game are almost instantaneous. As you probably know, the jump generally works by folding space in front and behind the ship, making the space move around it and allowing you to essentially travel extremely fast by not moving at all. Now this already consumes gigantic amounts of energy and a jump like in Elite: Dangerous, meaning an instant one, would mean that ALL the space between you and your target is folded. As I understand it this would consume a stupendous amount of energy. For realism and storytelling reasons I assume that a jump takes some time. I will calculate time needed to complete the jump by this simple formula:

(Distance to target in Ly / current max. jump range) * 2.5

Enjoy the chapter two.

* * *

HOFTEN ENTERPRISE was an ugly Station. Controlled by an old family calling themselves 'Earls of Caris', HOFTEN ENTERPRISE was in disrepair as the rulers of the Zoqui Xuang system rather played their court intrigues than actually govern the system. As a result the administration was inefficient and corrupt, landing clearance could only be obtained by paying a small fee directly to the traffic controller and documentation of any kind was notoriously hard to come by. Essentially the perfect system to disappear for a while. Harro looked down onto the landing pat. Through the reinforced canopy, that covered the cockpit of the Marduk, he could see his temporarily acquired deckhands operating the loading drones. Latifa had taught them how to use the drones, by getting all the delicate cargo out of the Marduk earlier. Clearly the lesson had not been of any lasting impression. With a sigh Harro turned his attention away from the incompetence that was going on below him and went towards the pilots chair in front of the cockpit. He hated the domelike cockpits of Lakon's T series. A lot of polycarbonated layers infused with high pressure quartz crystals just meant a lot of structural weakness… that was begging for a rapid decompression event. Harro much preferred the cockpits of military vessels, small and just as little structural weakness as necessary. He never got the appeal of the giant, fragile dome stuck to the front of the T-7, with the pilots chair in airy solitude at the very front of the ship. Latifa and he usually used the two consoles next to the pressure lock in the back of the cockpit to control the Marduk. Mostly because they didn't like to use their adhesive boots in zero gravity just to walk to the front of the cockpit. The pilots chair though was very comfortable. And perfectly placed to display Galnet onto the canopy.

"We have to talk."

Latifa slowly turned her head away from the improvised screen and toward Harro next to her.

"Huh?"

"We have to talk, turn that off."

"Ok, you look serious, everything all right?"

"Yes, we are changing our next destination."

Latifa raised an eyebrow and suspicion crept into the look she gave him. Since they had left AKIYMATA MARKET a week ago Harro had very openly ignored many details of their month long trading run mission. Taking on cargo that was not listed in the manifest, stopping by stations that, according to the mission details, they had no business stopping by or not hiring additional crew, instead just employing local dockworkers for cargo transfer. He had told Latifa about his legal situation with Brani Federal Holdings and she knew that his action were more or less legal. But Harro also could tell that his co-pilot did not like his newly found independent spirit.

"Don't tell me you want to buy some cargo on your own account again. Let's stick to the plan Harro, we are losing time here."

Her tone had shifted from a worried one to slightly hostile one.

"New Plan. We are going to the Kelie System."

"Harro, what the fuck? That is Delaine space and not where we are supposed to go. Are you trying to get us fired?"

"I am trying to make some money on the side. My ship, my risk. What's you problem anyway? We are sharing the profits."

"Sharing the…? We are earning hardly anything by transporting whatever you buy one the side. That little is not worth risking your jobs."

"That's why we are going to Kelie, much better profit margins there."

Harro noticed that her ears stated to turn blood red, a clear sign that she was getting angry.

"That is damn Delaine space, the last place you want to be in an unarmed T-7. And we will lose even more time on the mission. Gonzales will skin you when we come back. AND fire me."

Harro could understand her reservations. She had to fly station service vehicles for four years after she got her commercial pilots licence. A miserable and dull job that usually was left to automated service limpets, but she took it anyway to keep her commercial licence valid. Flying a T-7 as co-pilot with an ex-navy officer as commander was an astronomical step up.

"I don't plan to keep my job."

"What?"

"Gonzales can't pay regular incurrence for the Marduk so he needs my licence to get cheap incurrence from the Pilots Federation. Problem being that only works with me as the holder of the ship, with the right to take her wherever I want, he can't stop me. Now that I figured that out, do you think Gonzales will keep me? First thing that will happen when we get back, I get some offer to leave and you get the offer to take my job. With the same crux attached, all the responsibility and no control."

"It always has worked out for you, don't tell me this job was good money."

"Yeah it worked out for me because I know what I am doing. But the money would only be all right if I wasn't liable for the cargo and crew. And don't think Gonzales is going to pay you the same he paid me. He knows with your references you would be back in a tow truck."

"That makes what you are planning not any less stupid. Harro, Delaine space full of pirates and…"

"Now listen, I have a deal for you. Work with me I'll give you 40% and in three weeks you'll probably have enough credits to buy a cobra. Don't work with me and I will go ahead anyway, without you. Meaning, I will dump your ass here."

Latifas mouth opened to spit a reply but nothing came out. They had been flying together for two years now and usually got along pretty well. Harro knew that his 'deal' was borderline blackmail and that Latifa would feel betrayed by his offer, but the truth was he needed a co-pilot for what he was planning. He didn't feel so good about himself and the method he was using to convince Latifa, but this was a golden opportunity and he would take it.

"So what, are you in or out?"

Latifa flashed her eyes angrily at him.

"I guess your plan involves straying from the path of righteousness?"

He had her.

"Not where we are going."

"You are a despicable asshole."

Harro started grinning.

"I would never claim otherwise."

"Fine I am in. Not for the money, but because you leave me no choice. Wipe that smirk of your damn face. I am fucking angry with you."

Harro's grin widen even more.

* * *

Despite what you would expect, moving heavy objects in zero gravity isn't easy. Objects might be weightless but, as soon as you get them moving, their inertia makes it considerably hard to stop them again. The trick is to move the object at speeds at which you are able to stop them. An object with too much momentum to stop, can be considered out of control. As the Marduk slammed against the entrance of HOFTEN ENTERPRISE, that was exactly what the local traffic controller noted down.

'T-7 LO-113 Marduk; lost control on exiting the station; no damage to station; no fines issued; accident was caused upon a control-thruster malfunction and misfire'

Nothing could have been father from the truth. On Harro's order, Latifa very deliberately crashed the Marduk just hard enough to strain the shields.

"Manufacturing probable cause."

He had called the unorthodox manoeuvre.

"Probable cause for what?"

The chaotic lights, twisted by the extreme folding of space, flickered through the canopy. Some called it witchspace. The technical term was Hyperspace. A bubble of folded space that made space flow around the ship, instead of the ship labouring through space on the power of conventional engines.

"Probable cause for our disappearance if anyone comes asking."

Harro unbuckled himself and floated out of his seat.

"Our what?"

"The reason we did not complete our trading assignments. System failure. We prematurely dropped out of hyperspace. Got stranded between starts. Took weeks to fix the ship and plot a new route."

"…What?"

Harro realized he had to get more specific, Latifa obviously had no idea what he was talking about. It was kind of fun to keep her guessing though.

"Right, get out of your seat. We need to mess with the ships mainframe computer. Give ourselves a new serial number. We don't want Brani Federal Holdings to find out right away that we weren't stranded in deep space."

He opened the airlock and they both floated towards the stern of the Marduk.

"Ok, so I get that we need to change our serial number that we can't be tracked by the records of the stations we dock at. Especially if you have some shady shit planed for us. But to access the mainframe safely you need to shut down most systems. And we are in Hyperspace transit. Shit this is insane. I still can't believe you got me into this."

They had reached the crew cabins. A T-7 normally housed eight crew but usually only their two cabins where occupied. Gonzales called it 'lowering standing costs'. Harro opened his cabin. In zero gravity it is not only possible to use the 'walls' of a room but also the 'floor' and the 'celling' since no standing room is required. Because of that cabins on ships seldom got bigger than a few square meters (since technically the entire surface area was what counts) and the Marduk was no exception. A bunk bed mounted on a wall, to sleep in while the ship was on a planet or a station and a sleeping bag fastened on a wall towards the stern. The one luxury commercial ships got was a private hygiene pod in each cabin with the rest of the cabin surfaces covered in hatches. Below the hatches one could find small storage areas, which were dearly needed, since anything not stored away or otherwise attached to the cabin would float around uncontrollably. Harro opened a specific hatch, reached in and grab his handheld processing unit

"Just think about the money you will make of this…"

"The money I will maybe make of this. If we don't get shoot up by pirates or caught by the feds or…"

"Yeah, yeah, I get it. Here take this."

Harro gave is processing unit to Latifa and shut the hatch again.

"I will manually discharge the FSD capacitor into the active heatsinks. That will drop us out of hyperspace. After that you disconnect the mainframe from its main data storage and connect my processor. That will keep most of the systems running and us the opportunity to temper with the registration data. After we are done with that we go out the outer airlock. So prepare your EVA gear."

"Where the hell did you learn that stuff Harro? I thought you flew with the navy and not with some smuggler crew?"

"Well, I did. But in my last five years with the navy, I was in command of a corvette attached to the 11th flotilla. The 11th mostly handles domestic security and anti-smuggling operations. And to catch a smuggler you need to know how one works."

* * *

"Just for the record, I am really starting to regret this."

Harro definitely was not. He was strapped to the outer hull of the Marduk, floating in deep space. The uncountable stars of the Milky Way formed the distinctive band of light that illuminated the endless darkness of the universe. As they were lightyears away from any star, the absence of light pollution made it possible to see stars and nebula with bare eyes that usually weren't visible. The view was breathtakingly majestic.

"Stop floating around. This is your damn idea. Now help me with this fucking tape."

With a sigh Harro tore his eyes away from Bernard's loop and grabbed the tether. He slightly pulled on it and elegantly attached his adhesive boots to the hull next to Lafia. She was noticeably uncomfortable in her EVA-gear, very awkward in the usage of the adhesive boots on the outer hull and downright frightened by the vast nothingness she was exposed to. Harro on the other hand was just happy, happier than he had been in years. Screw the trading manifest and forget the schedules, this was why he had become a Pilot.

"Right. I'll get the magnetic foil."

He took a two rolls of a silvery foil out of Latifa's gearback, handed one to her and started to slowly walk towards the big slivery letters that spelled the registration number of the Marduk.

"So, you are sure this works?"

Latfia sounded queasy. She really wasn't used to EVAs.

"Depends. Try to pull this trick on me and I would see through it after a short while."

He said, as he taped magnetic foil onto the hull to make the big silvery L look like an E.

"Station traffic controllers will not notice. They just use the registration we send to the station with the dockingrequest. As you probably know you can't transmit electromagnetic signals through hyperspace. The only way to transmit data to another system is by loading it onto a ship and sending it there."

"Yes I know, get to the point already. I want know how soon I'll go to the federal correctional facilities for pulling this shit."

"I'll get there, patience."

Harro, enjoyed talking about his expertise with someone that never was in the navy. Mainly because it was illegal and he liked the idea of his old boss screaming her lungs out if she was to find out. He smoothed out the strips of magnetic foil he already taped to the hull with the back of his EVA glove. Latifa was doing the same to the Q that was an O a few moments ago... she just looked a lot less elegant doing it.

"Now, because of that information travels only as fast as the ships that are delving it. Same goes for traffic reports or, let's say, new registration numbers. In the core systems that usually takes a few hours, they have well organized transports, but out here, on the edge of the bubble, were nobody gives a fuck, that can take days. So no station questions a new registration number."

"But they will notice a fake after a while?"

"If they care to look, yes. Same goes for standard checks by the system authority because they have the same information. Now, federal patrols will actually scan the number we are faking right now. If we give them a reason to do a full inspection they will, very quickly, identify the Marduk as the LO-113 Marduk and not as the EQ-118 Marduk. We could fake all the serial-numbers of the ship components but that would take far too long, we are not going to do that. So full an inspection will get us into prison very quickly."

The E looked good but used up all the tape, so Harro gracefully moved towards Lafia to get another roll of foil.

"I guess you have thought of that?"

She said as she handed him the silvery tape. Her Q looked pretty good.

"We fly a T-7. A ship that is notoriously bad to do anything illegal in. So a superficial scan is the most we have to fear from the unmotivated fed conscript. But I doubt we will encounter one of them out here. If we head towards the core, this cover is good enough, if we get out quick."

He strode towards the end of the registration number and started to put down tape onto the empty spaces between the 3 to make it an 8.

"Now the feds that are a problem are my former colleagues. Professional Federal Navy on an anti-smuggling tour. They will pull us out of supercruise, scan us immediately, notice that the feedback from our tape is in fact tape and not reflection-paint, lock us down and board the shit out of us. Nothing we can do against that. But the probability is very low. I served with them for 5 years and on the egged of the bubble one squad had to cover almost populated 30 star systems. I don't think that changed much."

The 3 was now an 8. Harro softly pushed against the hull and disengaged his adhesive boots. He slowly floated away from the Marduk while holding his safety rope. Even from the relatively small distance the fake number looked indistinguishable from the real deal for anyone that didn't care to look closer.

"Ok, this will work, back to the airlock."

* * *

"So even if I find it very impressive that you managed drop us out of Hyperspace more or less safely, you still haven't told me why we did this. We could just as easily supercruised out of Zoqui Xuang, dropped and did our tempering there."

Latifa had to scream trough the massive engineering section of the Marduk to make herself understood. She was disconnecting the FSD from the active heatsinks, while Harro modified the mainframe further.

"We need some scanner data that proves we were stranded between systems. And I also put in some corrupted data to make it seem like your accident in HOFTEN ENTERPRISE was the reason for the drop."

"So you are manufacturing timestamps for the recorder to make it look like we stuck here for weeks?"

"No, I have no idea how to do that. I just get the data and loop it a few times."

Latifa froze in her action.

"What? Do you know how easily the techs at Brani Federal Holdings can identify a loop?"

Harro disconnected his processing unit from the mainframe and floated towards Latifa to help her move the heavy thermal conductors.

"Yeah, sure. But what are they going to do? They say the data looks fishy, we say it got corrupted or something, play dumb. If Gonzales really wants to investigate he has to wade through that swamp of corruption in HOFTEN ENTERPRISE. That will take time and money. I don't think he can spare any, so he will just get rid of us."

They moved the thermal conductors back to storage and bolted them down. It was hard physical work to manoeuvre three hundred kilo conductors through tight spaces, so they were sweaty and dirty as they floated back to the cockpit. As they both strapped themselves back into their seats Harro noticed Latifas contemplative look on her face.

"You have more questions?"

"Mhhh, you seem to have this planed out pretty meticulously. I am kind of impressed. Still fucking angry, but impressed,"

Harro locked in the coordinates for the target system and left the ship to do the additional calculations for their unorthodox starting point. He actually was really pleased with himself too. A feeling had taken hold of him that made him think back to his first time out of a station in the pilot's chair.

"But tell me, how do you mean to make us that much money in a few weeks? We don't have enough capital to for bulk trading."

The computer finished the calculations and Latifa gave the command to charge the FSD.

"That is the part I am not so sure of. I still have access to a few unclassified databanks from the navy. It's mostly data about people the 11th managed to detain, how long they will be in prison and were they are staying after they got out. You know, personal safety reasons. You don't want to be in the same system as some ex-crimelord, you put behind bars. Especially when you have left the navy."

The FSD was charged and Latifa engaged the drive. The audible warping of space-time around a ship still gave Harro chills, even after years in the cockpit. Chaotic lights illuminated his instruments again.

"There was a contact I used quite often, money for information, that kind of thing. Danilo Callahan. He disappeared shortly after I left the navy and popped up again about a year ago. As a prospect for the Society of Kelie."

"Never heard of them."

"Supposedly an anarchical political party, they are in a loose network with Delaines organisation. So they basically are a small time crime syndicate. At least that's what Galnet has to say about them. I plan to offer our services to him."

Latifa stretched herself, yawned and got out of her seat.

"40 minutes till destination. Ok, this seems ridiculous to me, but whatever. I am stuck in this thing now I guess."

She looked at her communicator.

"So it took us 6 hours to fake a serial number and get some deep space noise for a looped tape. I am tired. I hope you didn't plan to visits your mole right away, because if you did you can do it with me in my bag, sleeping."

"No rush. I'll park the ship in some orbit and we'll call it a day. See you in eight hours."

* * *

The human body is not suited to life in a low g environment and reacts with severe atrophy of muscle and bone tissue. For early explorers atrophy presented a significant challenge and let to serious health issues if left unchecked. Large portions of the workday were occupied with physical exercise and the selection of suitable explorers was limited by their physical health. As technology advanced however, standardised gene-therapy became affordable and safe enough to combat the worst side effects of long term life in space. For the crew of spaceships however physical fitness was still an absolute must. G-forces, even during standard manoeuvres, could easily exceed three g. The crew had to be able to perform their function despite of the acceleration and they had to endure this weeks on end. During his navy days Harro had lived by the shift work cycle the federal navy used to run its crews. Eight hours work, eight hours light duties, workout and free time, eight hours sleep. It was a good system, designed to run a ship 24 hours all day every day. Sadly, the first thing he had to abandon after he was given the command of the Marduk, was this working routine, because Brani Federal Holdings would not employ enough crew to support it. What he did manage however was the installation of some very good exercise equipment. He had to pay for it himself, but that was worth the health benefits. The gym of the Marduk was located in the former commander's quarters. A room twice as big as the normal ones and conveniently accessible form the mess. Harro never got the appeal of having larger quarters, they, for some reason, only got cluttered a lot faster. Here he found Latifa working at the Resistive Exercise Device, a weightlifting device that simulates gravity. In the past it was used to prevent the loss of too much muscle mass, now it was used to keep the body strong enough to move at four g. Harro strapped himself to the treadmill. The elastic tethers pushed him onto the track and the strong resistance simulated running up a steep hill. They switched the machines after twenty minutes and finished with some sparring on Harro's custom engineered magnetic ring. He was particularly proud of this ring. It was used by wearing a harness that was connected with tethers to its magnetic surface. In his first attempt to build a ring Harro had used an adhesive surface but that failed miserably, as it was impossible to move around quickly. With harness and tethers it was even possible to jump a little. A disadvantage was the occasional entanglement of tethers that usually brought the match to a sudden stop.

"So, we are going to break the law today?"

She threw some punches in Harros direction. It was the first time any of them spoke during their morning workout. Nothing unusual since Harro was definitely not a morning person.

"I hope it will not come to that."

He caught her punches with his pads. Her expression didn't change a bit.

"Are you looking forward to breaking the law?"

A smile crept into her face.

"Maybe."

"How did that change of mind come around?"

"Don't know. Just feels liberating. No longer under the knout of Gonzales."

They stopped exercising after an hour and ate breakfast. Making a mess in zero gravity usually ended in total disaster, which was why the regular on board kitchen was no option. Breakfast in space usually meant nutrient paste and some liquid. There were possibilities to get more creative but they usually lacked the time. Ten hours off time was the maximum. They had no guidelines regarding their workhours, because after just about half a day in resting mode the ships fusion reactor would burn through all the fuel reserves of the Marduk. Using the Autopilot to park the ship in a supercruise trajectory around a scoop able star was also a bad idea, as any passer-by could pull them out. It was possible to dock at a station and let the reactor run on fuel via the docking umbilical but staying docked for an extended amount of time, just to sleep, was not affordable. Stations needed their valuable landing pads running and not blocked by some ship, so docking time got more expensive the longer a ship stayed docked. The option to shut the reactor down and use the auxiliary power unit to run life-support and core systems existed in theory but to restart the reactor, huge amounts of power were needed. The capacitors that held the charge for the restart could only be used once or twice, so they were left with their ten hours break till they had to start working again anyway. Harro went back to his cabin to wash himself and slip on his flight suit. As he floated towards the cockpit he heard the low hum from the engine warmup cycle. Latifa seemed to have made up her mind about their new course of action. As he strapped his flight suit into his chair she was already changing the FSD to super cruise.

"You seem like you can't wait."

"To be honest I did more thinking than sleeping. With the result that I am stuck in this and better make a lot of money. So I plan to waist no more time."

A ripple went through the ship as they entered super cruise. They let the Marduk scoop up fuel and prepared the jump to the Kelie System. As the FSD charged up a feeling overcame Harro. Something he had not felt in years. A dreading feel in the pit of his stomach and a metallic taste on his tongue. He recognized the feeling. This was what he felt every time he engaged a FSD-Interdiction back in his navy days. Only if it came to that this time around he would be on the receiving end.


End file.
